


All I Want For Christmas is World Peace

by Krystalicekitsu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cock-Blocking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-26
Updated: 2010-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:24:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krystalicekitsu/pseuds/Krystalicekitsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's just spent half of a strategy session making those eyes at Cas. Yeah, <i>those</i> eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Want For Christmas is World Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/profile)[**comment_fic**](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/): [here](http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/127786.html?thread=27758378#t27758378).

  


  
The first time, Dean didn't really notice.

Sitting in some shitty motel chair, reading over a book Bobby lent them- ' _You get_ anything _on this book, I'll kill ya, salt and burn your bones, then find a way to bring you idjits back and do it again, ya hear?_ '- when Cas decides he wants to kiss Dean.

Dean- having been encouraging such behavior since... well, _since_ \- makes a startled noise of pleasure before humming into the angel’s mouth.

Cas' hand is nestled right over the scar he left, and the possessive spark of _ownership_ in that leaves Dean dizzy and half hard. He knots his hand in that ridiculous tie and pulls forward, the angel letting him do so with an encouraging sigh.

And, hey, lucky them, because the Sasquatch isn't due back from the library for another three hours, at _least_ , and that should be, ya know, enough time to do what he's imagining doing to Castiel, Angel of the Lord.

Barely.

But as he's palming a thrusting angel's dick through pressed dress pants, there's the tell-tale 'snick' of a key in a lock and he barely has enough time to squeak 'shit!' before Castiel's gone and his- _annoying, frustrating, unintentional cock-block_ \- little brother is brushing into the motel room.

He's mollified by the fact that they hadn't gotten any further- _oh thank god_ \- and that Sam brought pie with his excited babbling.

  
The second time, Dean is fully aware of it.

He's just spent half of a strategy session making those eyes at Cas. Yeah, _those_ eyes.

And Cas, glancing wide eyed, and a little- startled?- something else to Sam before back to Dean, knows exactly what he's saying through eyefuckage.

So when Sam stays after the angel poofs to wherever he poofs, Dean wanders out to get a soda.

He's in the partitioned little 'soda & snacks' surrounded by cinder blocks, trying to choose between Sierra Mist and Cream Soda when there's an angel at his back, mouthing at his neck, digging fingers into his stomach and trying to weld his hips to Dean's ass. Dean doesn't mind, really.

And when a hand clamps down on his mouth to stifle his heated groan, he grinds his hips back into a hard cock. He's pleased to hear Cas' stuttered inhalation.

Cas is doing that _thing_ behind his left ear, so it's no surprise that he doesn't hear the very close motel door open and close.

He does hear the, "Daddy, I want _Cream_ Soda!"

He also notices the quick departure of one angel, the fact that he is half hard and the fact that the stupid machine didn't take his quarter.

  
The third time, he wants to kill something. Again.

Castiel managed to distract the- the- _thing_ long enough for Sam to finish the spell, mostly by letting the incredibly powerful whatever-it-was fling him all over the clearing.

Dean has leaves down the back of his shirt from when he'd accidentally been hit with flying!Cas, he's mud splattered, and he thinks he just broke his favorite sawed-off, but he's smiling at Cas from across the small clearing.

Cas is making those eyes at him, and oh yeah- he's getting fucked so hard tonight--

-and he's getting hugged.

By an armful of over enthused teenage girl. And her mother. What the hell?

And they've been invited to dinner and Sam- _annoying, frustrating, unintentional cock-blocking little brother_ \- is accepting and completely ignoring the death glares both he and Cas are giving.

Fuck.

  
The fourth time, Dean screams.

He hasn't gotten any in a month. A _month_! He! Dean Winchester! Hasn't had sex! _**IN A MONTH**_!

He's out back in Bobby's junk yard, dry humping Cas into an early model Corolla when something cold and wet noses his hand.

He ignores it.

Then...

-there's something on his head!

Cas is laughing at him- ok, no he's doing that head tilt thing- as Dean flings the damned cat to the ground and screams profanities at it.

Really!? Is it too much to ask he be able to fuck his angel in peace!?

  
The fifth time- well there is no fifth time because Dean drags Castiel down to the panic room and they go at it like rabbits to make up for all the times the world screwed them out of an orgasm.

Castiel informs him that rabbits don't fornicate any more frequently than humans, but their increased litter size make them seem highly active.

Dean tells him to shut up and kiss him.

(Even though the sight of his angel saying 'fornicate' does happy things for his dick.)

  



End file.
